


At The Tea Shop

by TheAdamantDaughter



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Tea Shop, Tea shop AU, Zutara, zuko and katara, zuko x katara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6693934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAdamantDaughter/pseuds/TheAdamantDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She set her mug on the edge of the table, "Can I sit here? All the other tables are full." Her face was hotter than she would have liked, but Katara kept her voice light and confident as his golden eyes, hidden beneath a mop of unkempt, raven hair, flicked up from the book - Beowulf - and met hers. The irises were stunning - set over angular cheekbones that sloped downwards to a straight nose and full, red lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New In Town

"One medium jasmine tea and a lemon cookie for the beautiful, blue-eyed lass." The old man's eyes crinkled at the edges as he leaned over the counter to pass Katara her order.

She blushed at his compliment as she took the ceramic mug and plate from the man, knowing her hair was a wavy mess and her eyes were likely bloodshot from the all-nighter she'd pulled while studying for her upcoming nursing exams. "Thank you, Mister -" She trailed off, inflecting her voice at the end of the sentence, as if to ask him for his name.

"Iroh." He smiled broadly at her. "Call me Uncle Iroh. All the regulars around here do. And, you are?"

"I'm Katara. Nice to meet you, Uncle Iroh." She set down her mug and shook his outstretched hand, her natural curiosity getting the better of her. "Do you have nieces and nephews in the city?" Her eyebrows perked up excitedly at the possibility of meeting someone _\- anyone -_ around her age. She didn't regret her decision to leave her quiet Florida home and pursue her nursing degree at Columbia University, but she was almost finished with her first year and Katara had yet to make any _real_ friends. She was lonely without Sokka's constant pestering and Aang's, albeit annoying, but persistent pursuit of her. She even missed Toph, sometimes.

"A nephew - Zuko." Uncle Iroh nodded his head and Katara followed his gaze to a corner table where a brooding young man sat with his back to the shop. "He's new in town, like yourself. Got into some trouble back home in DC and I offered to take him under my wing."

"Trouble? He doesn't seem like the type." Katara squinted at the books stacked beside Zuko's left arm - _The Iliad, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet_. At the moment, he was hunched over a fourth novel, but she couldn't make out the title or the author.

She caught Iroh's weary sigh and turned her attention back to him. "More like a troublesome situation." He offered her a tight smile, as if the memory of Zuko's past pained him as well. "He's changed alot, for the better, now that he's free of it. He's finally able to… recover." Iroh clapped his hands together, the hopeful spark returning to his eyes. "But, that's not my story to tell. You should go sit by him - he could use a friend and I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company of such a lovely lady."

Katara blushed again and Iroh shooed her towards Zuko's table with a wink. She set her mug on the edge of the table, "Can I sit here? All the other tables are full." Her face was hotter than she would have liked, but Katara kept her voice light and confident as his golden eyes, hidden beneath a mop of unkempt, raven hair, flicked up from the book - _Beowulf_ \- and met hers. The irises were stunning - set over angular cheekbones that sloped downwards to a straight nose and full, red lips.

"No they aren't. The place is practically empty." His tone was harsh and he raised an eyebrow at her. _Just one,_ she noticed as she took in the mottled pink flesh that scarred the left side of his face. It didn't detract from his looks though, it was just… there. In fact, Katara couldn't imagine what he may have looked like without it.

"So?" Katara scowled at him. "I would like to sit here - if that's alright with you."

Zuko's gaze turned from her back to Uncle Iroh who stood at the shop's counter, a loony grin taking up most of his face. "Fine. Have at it."

"Thank you." She flopped down into the chair across from him with smile and snatched his copy of _The Iliad._ Some pages were dog-eared and highlighted with neat, masculine writing in the margins. "I'm Katara."

"I didn't ask." His eyes glowered with irritation and he looked down at his book again.

"Your uncle says you're new in town. What brought you here?" Her fingers thumbed through the novel's thick pages as she stoically refused to let his attitude bristle her.

"Listen, _Katara,_ " His tongue cut through the syllables like her name was a bad taste in his mouth, "I said you could sit here, I didn't say you could talk."

Her nose wrinkled and she pursed her lips at him, "Well, aren't you lovely." He shrugged, not seeming to catch the insult and Katara's temper finally flared. "Anyone ever told you that you're an ass?" She moved to leave the table, gathering her mug and cookie after slamming his book back down on the stack.

"Wait." His reached out a hand, snaking his fingers around her wrist before she got too far. The hard gold in his eyes melted to something softer, making him appear genuinely apologetic and Katara felt a pang of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry. I'm pretty bad at this whole… _being good_ thing."

"Obviously."

"Please, sit back down. Let's start over." Zuko's lips curled into a nervous, crooked smile and Katara returned to the seat hesitantly.

"Fine. I'm Katara."

"Zuko."


	2. Still an Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's because I don't go to," His eyes skimmed across the block lettering on her t-shirt, "Columbia University. You're one of those types, then."
> 
> "Excuse me?" She crossed her arms self consciously, hiding the university's name from him.
> 
> "An academia." He made quotes in the air with his fingers. "You know - one of those Ivy League kids whose parents start an endowment fund so their poor grades and idiotic behavior will be overlooked."

Katara sipped her tea slowly, watching with mild amusement as Zuko glanced from her down to his book. His fingers drummed on the worn leather cover with a nervous energy. "You're not very good at this, are you?" she teased, squinting at him.

"Good at what?" He scowled, trying to look disconcerted but Katara noticed a pink tint on his cheeks.

"Being sociable."

"I'm sorry that I don't sit down at the tables of complete strangers."

She quirked her lips at him, throwing him off guard with a quick retort, "I'm on a first name basis with your uncle - that makes you a half stranger." His mouth moved to fire back, but she stopped him. "Oh, and I know your name, too. So really you're not a stranger at all."

"You met my uncle this morning." His tone was hard and flat but Katara didn't miss the bright glint in his golden eyes.

"Yep… still being an ass." She took a bite of her cookie and washed it down with a swig of tea, smirking playfully. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, either from the sugar or the caffeine, but the surging energy was making Katara bold. Well, bolder than usual. She wasn't the type to chat up mysterious young men on a daily basis, but something about this particular man just screamed… _dorky_. It intrigued her - to think that maybe there was more to him than a bristling exterior. "Are you in school?" She nodded at the pile of literature on the table. "Or is that all for fun?"

Zuko huffed and closed his book, folding over the page to mark his place. "I'm trying to get caught up, actually. I'm a semester behind."

"I've never seen you on campus."

"That's because I don't go to," His eyes skimmed across the block lettering on her t-shirt, " _Columbia University_. You're one of those types, then."

"Excuse me?" She crossed her arms self consciously, hiding the university's name from him.

"An academia." He made quotes in the air with his fingers. "You know - one of those Ivy League kids whose parents start an endowment fund so their poor grades and idiotic behavior will be overlooked."

Katara couldn't help it. She burst out with ridiculous laughter until her sides hurt, making a few customers glance at them nervously. "If only my dad had started a fancy fund in my name. Maybe I wouldn't have been wait-listed for six months."

Zuko gave her a sheepish grin when her fit finally subsided, brushing hair from his eyes. "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't be so quick to judge."

"It would help with the whole asshole vibe." She made her own quotes in the air before growing serious again. "The only reason I'm attending Columbia is because I gave up a social life in favor of a spotless transcript… and I'm on the swim team - so that helps with tuition."

The conversation lulled and Zuko fiddled with the peeling plastic veneer on the table top, leaving Katara to sip her tea. "Where do you go to school?" she asked.

"NYU. I transferred as a junior from a school in DC when my dad…" Zuko faltered, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "When my uncle invited me to stay with him. The move cost me a lot of credits though, hence the freshman English Lit." He tapped _The Iliad_ where it rested on top of the others.

"And, your major is?"

"Finance." His forehead wrinkled and Katara raised an eyebrow, pestering him to explain the irritated look. "My dad studied finance - and he's done pretty well with it. I'm supposed to inherit his company when he retires… but, honestly my sister would be better suited for it. I have no taste for cutthroat deals and constant backstabbing and whatever else he does during the day."

"Then, why not study what you want?"

"Ha! And disappoint him more?" Zuko shrugged, dismissing the subject. "I'll pass."

His face darkened and Katara frowned at her empty tea cup. _Digging up the painful past… what a great way to make a friend, Katara_. She decided then to make it right, to take his mind off whatever was troubling him. "Do you want to do something?"

"I should really be studying."

"Oh, come on. I have hardly explored the city and I've been here a year." Katara snatched the books from the table, ignoring Zuko's growl of protest as she tossed them behind the counter and gave Iroh a wave goodbye. Returning to him, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the exit. "I have a day off from studying and swim season is over. I want to do something fun."

"I thought you booky types didn't know how to have fun." Zuko gave her his crooked smile, his golden eyes lightening with his playful tone. His shoulders seemed to ease downwards as stress lifted and Katara knew she made the right decision to drag him from the tea shop.

"And, I thought you were going to stop making assumptions."


	3. Just Drink Your Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fine," she pouted, lifting the cup from the saucer. "What is all this for anyways? I mean, I know it's our anniversary but I thought we agreed - no gifts."
> 
> Zuko just shrugged, ignoring her question, and his eyes flicked to the cup again.
> 
> "Are you trying to poison me or something?" She laughed, glancing at the tea suspiciously.

Katara kicked at the wet sidewalk, weary and defeated after a long day of clinicals and paperwork and crabby patients. She had expected the heavier workload in her final year as a nursing student, even looked forward to it as she advanced through the courses at Columbia, she liked being busy and useful. _Helping people, healing them…_ that's what she lived for, that was her purpose. Still, things were never quite what they seemed and dreary days like this - with blaring car horns and rude pedestrians - made it hard for her to remember what she loved about the long walk from the hospital to the tea shop.

 _Mhmm, tea._ She smiled at the thought of Uncle's special ginseng brew, knowing that as she sipped from her favorite cup at the same table Iroh directed her to three years ago, Zuko would be across from her, probably scowling at someone. He was always scowling… unless he was looking at her… but, she loved him for it. All that mattered, really, was his hand in hers - him watching her, talking with her, smiling in his shy manner.

Katara's grin only grew when she finally reached the shop. The air was warm inside, dry and filled with spices, and the lights were dimmed, giving a glowing ambiance to the atmosphere. Most people would've noticed the paper lanterns strung around the room, the flowers on every table, and the general lack of a crowd, but that's not what she saw. No, Katara only had eyes for the dark-haired man sitting in their spot - with a book, of course.

Now, there was someone who was _far different than_ he had first seemed. He had been rough around the edges, equally frustrating and endearing, but Katara remembered fondly that first day in the city. She had dragged him all over New York - to Central Park, the Met, even the Statue of Liberty - and they watched the sunset from the top of Lady Liberty, quietly standing together in a budding companionship. Zuko swore that Katara talked incessantly the entire day, but she had seen his eyes light up every time her lips curled at one of his jokes and he hadn't pulled away when she took his hand in hers.

He took her hand now, noticing her standing beside him, and golden irises flicked up to hers. "How was your day?"

"Fine, I suppose," Katara answered, plopping down in her now worn chair. Zuko lifted an ivory tea pot, the handle and stem adorned with golden and pink petals, to pour her a steaming cup and then slid the saucer across the table to her. "Better now. What flavor is this?"

"It's lavender."

"Please tell me your uncle made it," Katara teased him, her finger tracing around the lip of the cup. As much time as Zuko spent here, his skill with brewing tea had never improved, and naturally, she never missed an opportunity to annoy him with pestering jibes.

"Yes. Uncle made it," he snapped, rolling his eyes, but his fingers drummed quietly on the table's edge and Katara didn't miss his glance from her to the tea cup and back up. "Happy Anniversary, my love."

"Oh, is that today?" she muttered, playing coy, "I had no idea."

There was that scowl she loved. His eyes glowered at her, but his lips twitched playfully like he was fighting a smile. He had changed so much since she'd first met him - Iroh swore on his tea shop that Katara was responsible, but she knew the sensitive demeanor had always existed… it just didn't show three years ago. He'd been hurt too much.

Katara had only helped heal him, helped repair the aching hole in his chest, filling him up with support and tenderness and love when he denounced his father, switched from NYU's finance program to theatre, and began a slow, but steady, pursuit of the arts upon his graduation. His hard work, and her faith, had paid off last Fall - Zuko landed the lead in a new production, _Love Amongst the Dragons,_ and the troupe had been performing the hit nearly every week for six months. She went to every single one of his shows when she wasn't working - she loved seeing him happy, proud, completely surrounded by his element. It was a beautiful transformation, one he fully deserved.

"Do you like the shop?" Zuko asked, pulling her away from her musing thoughts, "Is everything nice?"

"It's beautiful, Zuko," she said, looking around at the subtle romantic touches. "You did this all yourself?"

"My uncle helped. I… I wanted everything to be perfect."

"For what? Look at me." She pointed at her deep blue scrubs and frizzy hair, "I'm a complete mess, hardly perfect."

He smirked - it was his turn to tease and she wondered at what was making him so unusually mysterious this evening. Zuko was _never_ a mystery - not for her. "Just drink your tea, Katara, and you look wonderful. You always do."

"Fine," she pouted, lifting the cup from the saucer. "What is all this for anyways? I mean, I know it's our anniversary but I thought we agreed - no gifts."

Zuko just shrugged, ignoring her question, and his eyes flicked to the cup again.

"Are you trying to poison me or something?" She laughed, glancing at the tea suspiciously. A glint of metal caught her attention - a white gold band, a princess cut diamond… _a ring…_ swirling around the bottom of her cup. Her eyebrows went sky high as she set down the cup, shaking fingers delicately fishing out the engagement ring before she held it up in the space between them. She couldn't believe it. She'd only dreamed about it. "Are you serious?! Is this for me?"

The most delighted laugh left Zuko's lips and he slid from his chair, taking her left hand in both of his as he knelt beside her. He licked his lips a few times, eyes wandering over her face when his cheeks turned red, and finally, he spoke. "I hope you know, Katara, how desperately I love you… how desperately I need you."

She nodded her head eagerly, her right hand clenching around the ring, afraid she would drop it in her excitement.

"Katara, you, I-" Zuko stammered, his tongue suddenly twisted on a million emotions that she couldn't name, but the most prominent was adoration and his eyes melted as they focused on hers. "I can't even put into words what you've done for me, how unconditionally you've loved me. You're everything I've ever needed and everything I will need."

He reached for her fist, gently prying the ring from her grasp and sliding it over the knuckle of her ring finger, "Will you please, please, make me the happiest man on this earth? Please, marry me."

"Zuko, yes!" Katara jumped from her seat, linking her arms around his head in a tight embrace as he stood. His body was thrumming with nervous energy and she cupped his face in her hands. "I love you. I love you so much. I would love to marry you."

"I love you, too. Always will," he said, peppering her with light kisses. His eyes were so alight, his smile so hopeful, and Katara swore she'd never seen him so alive.


	4. That First Lemon Cookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The music slowed. Hakoda appeared on the stairs leading up to Iroh's flat, his hand extended behind him. Then, a delicate hand found his arm and blue eyes locked with Zuko's own. He didn't see the way the light caught in her hair. He didn't see the stunning silhouette of her gown. He didn't see the pink peonies in her arms. He only saw her.

"I can't believe the day's finally here," Hakoda said, pushing through the swinging door into the kitchen of the tea shop. His eyes were watery, a glistening blue that reflected Zuko's nervous gaze in them, but his smile was bright as he clapped a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "I couldn't be more proud to call you my son."

"Well, I'm not your son yet," Zuko muttered, fidgeting with the black bow tie at his neck. His shaking fingers just couldn't get the knot right and he threw the satin fabric down with an irritated huff, "Katara still has to say _I do."_

Hakoda laughed, shaking his head at the young man slouching against the counter, "You worry too much, Zuko."

Zuko gave him a halfhearted smile, the anxious look never leaving his face as his foot bounced on the floor with pent up energy. "She's too good for me."

"True," Hakoda teased, picking up the tie and gesturing at Zuko's neck. The groom nodded, lifting the collar and his chin so Hakoda could form the bow that Zuko's hands refused to make. "She loves you, though, despite whatever flaws you see in yourself."

"I love her, too." Zuko checked his reflection in the clear glass of the microwave, adjusting the neck of his dress shirt one last time and running his fingers through the messy, raven locks that fell in his eyes. They were too wide, the bright gold shining with excitement and stress all the same, and his teeth had his bottom lip caught between them. He frowned, releasing the corner of his mouth with a nod. "I'll spend everyday of my life loving her."

"I know," Hakoda said, squeezing Zuko's arm roughly. "If I didn't know that, I never would've given you permission to propose four months ago."

Zuko smiled affectionately, remembering that nerve wracking trip down to Florida. The first half of the week was spent with Sokka and Aang, milling around Katara's hometown and dodging her father's calls while the two boys helped Zuko sort through the thousands of options at the local jewelry stores.

He hated to admit that he'd nearly left without speaking to Hakoda - even after he bought the simple diamond ring and had written pages upon pages of reasons why he wanted to marry Katara, it took Sokka _literally dumping_ him on the porch of Hakoda's beach house and leaving him there without any other option except to go inside.

Naturally, once he was sitting across from the intimidatingly muscled man, Zuko's mouth had gone dry and he forgot all about this list in his back pocket. His hands shook uncontrollably and he fumbled with the box, dropping it and then popping it open for Hakoda to see without so much as a word about his intentions. Katara's father, his face so impassively set, looked from the ring to Zuko's gold eyes and simply said, _You're an nice guy, Zuko, but I'm just not that into you._

Mortified, Zuko popped up from the couch, mumbling something completely incoherent about the ring being for Katara _\- not him -_ and then he spouted off on a jumbled rant about Katara's many virtues and attributes, his face flushing and his heart pounding out of his chest. All the while, Hakoda kept his face unreadable, only breaking into a smile and a joyous laugh when Zuko sighed and closed the box, sinking back into the cushions with beet red cheeks.

_There's no one better for my daughter. Welcome to the family, Zuko._

Those words still rang in Zuko's ears, still filled him with an inexplicable sense of pride and happiness. _There was no one better for him, either._

"Nephew?" Uncle popped in the door, followed by a smirking Sokka, "Everything is ready."

Zuko looked up from the floor, taking a deep breath as his thoughts dissipated. "I'm ready, too. I've never been more ready."

/

The four men shared a shot of sake. Sokka took the opportunity to embarrass Zuko with a variety of innuendos about the coming night. Hakoda smacked his son and then gave Zuko one last hug, tearing up before disappearing from the kitchen to meet his daughter. Uncle cried a little, telling Zuko he'd hoped and prayed for the day his nephew _\- his son -_ would find love and peace.

And now, Zuko stood in front of the tea shop's large windows - the city, their city, the city they fell in love in, bustling beyond the tinted glass. Any other day, he would've admired the delicate arrangements of flowers and paper lanterns set up around the shop. He would've noticed the scent of jasmine tea and finger foods put on display. He would've seen the smiling faces that looked back at him from the rows of guests.

But all he saw was her.

The music slowed. Hakoda appeared on the stairs leading up to Iroh's flat, his hand extended behind him. Then, a delicate hand found his arm and blue eyes locked with Zuko's own. He didn't see the way the light caught in her hair. He didn't see the stunning silhouette of her gown. He didn't see the pink peonies in her arms. He only saw her.

The way her eyes never left his. The way her irises shimmered with tears. The way her mouth curled into the shy smile that always stopped his heart.

And his heart did stop - It stopped as she walked down the aisle towards him and then it fluttered when his hands enveloped hers and with a whispered _I love you_ from her lips, it beat anew, like his life was restarting and from this moment forward he was someone better, someone more whole and complete, someone worthy of all of her love.

His uncle said a few words, thanking the guests for witnessing this beautiful day. Hakoda tearfully kissed his daughter on the cheek, shaking with emotion. Sokka cheered and whooped, ignoring Suki's hushing. Zuko would be lying though, if he said he heard any of it.

He was too lost in her, too lost in the way her lips moved with her vows and the way his own shaped those binding words - _I do._

Then, Aang looked to him, his time to speak finally coming.

"Katara," he said softly, voice breaking.

Tears wet her cheeks, matching the stream already pouring down the right side of his face. He didn't know where the words came from or what overtook his normally quiet demeanor, but his tongue already knew what he wanted to say and his heart poured out in the form of a love story, washing over the woman standing across from him.

"If someone told me when I was an angry, selfish, sixteen year old that someone so wholly beautiful as you would change me… better me… I never would've believed them. I didn't believe someone like you could love me. I didn't believe myself to be deserving of such a love. But you… _you loved me_. Since that first lemon cookie, you loved me and I love you, Katara, I really do. You are the light of my life - the one bright spot I found after years of searching in the dark - and I'm never letting you go. Never. You are my forever."

She smiled, reaching up to cup Zuko's cheek.

"Please, Katara, will you let me love you until my dying breath? Will you take me as your husband?"

"I do, Zuko. Forever and always."

He never thought his heart could be any more full, but in that moment, it nearly burst, and when her lips collided with his, Zuko knew, from that day forward, she was his and he was completely, irrevocably, hers.


	5. The Love in Your Veins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seemed this was all he needed to hear to let go of whatever apprehension his eyes held. The gold sparked and his fingers flew to the lapel of his coat, pushing it to the floor. His shirt soon followed, along with his pants, and Katara was left with a very gracious view of his naked form - pale and muscular and hers. Looking at him now, something warm and languid replaced the nerves in her belly, spreading out from her chest to the rest of her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw

Katara stood quietly, watching Zuko fumble with the ring of keys that he pulled from his suit jacket. His hands were shaking, either from fatigue or excitement, and he kept glancing over his shoulder with a shy smile.

"It's the gold one, love," Katara giggled, giving him a reassuring nod even as her heart fluttered in her chest.

"Right, sorry," he blushed and refocused his attention on the lock.

It was silly, she thought, to be this nervous. She'd been to his apartment a million times, spent the night a thousand times… and she couldn't begin to count the hours she'd spent in his kitchen or his bathroom or his bedroom, but it had never been like this.

Suddenly, when he selected the right key and swung the door open, she didn't remember that she knew every room by heart. When his arms swept her up and he stepped over the narrow threshold, she nearly forgot about his secret cupboard of tea, his insistence that knives be kept separate from the other silverware, his drawer of t-shirts and boxers set aside just for her. And when he set her down in his room, gently depositing her on his red bedspread with a kiss and quiet sigh, nothing mattered to her except the new found knowledge that this was _theirs._

The bedspread was theirs. The room was theirs. The apartment was theirs.

"Do you want any champagne? Or maybe some food?" Zuko asked, capturing her attention.

"No. I've had enough of both."

He nodded, much more than was necessary, and shoved his hands into his pockets with a jerky motion. That same shy smile from the hallway reappeared as he bounced from one foot to another. "Yea, I'm not hungry either."

Katara couldn't stifle her laugh - they'd been waiting for this night for years and now it was here and they were both acting like awkward, inexperienced teenagers. Well… she _was_ inexperienced, but it wasn't like there hadn't been some fooling around over the course of their relationship. Plus, she'd spent plenty of time with Suki and Toph to have a decent grasp on what to expect… and she _knew_ Zuko. She knew his likes and dislikes, what made his cheeks red and his breath erratic, what made him squirm and writhe and moan - but now, as his wife of four hours, she felt like a nervous train wreck when she pushed off the bed and walked towards him.

"Unzip me?" She asked softly, turning her back to Zuko and sweeping her hair away from the gown's seam. "Please?"

He chuckled and his hands skimmed up her arms, starting at her wrists and grazing over the tanned skin to her shoulders and her neck and then down her back. When he finally stopped at the zipper, her body was covered in goosebumps and she shivered as the white lace loosened and fell away, revealing her bare chest and the silky panties Suki had gifted her with.

Zuko brought her around to face him, his wild eyes drinking her in. Then, his lips were on her neck, leaving a searing trail of kisses from her ear to her collarbone, and Katara titled her head back, reveling in the way his breath hitched.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly, his words ghosting from where his tongue lapped at her breast.

"Yes."

Carefully, with a gentle hand spread across her sternum, Zuko pushed her towards the bed. She lay back on her elbows and gave him a perplexed stare when he didn't join her - instead his gaze traveled over her, drifting slowly from her toes up to her eyes with a heady mix of lust and love.

"This isn't going to work if you don't take off your clothes, Zuko," she teased.

"Just a minute," he whispered, coming a step closer. "There are some days when I can't believe you are mine."

"I've always been yours."

"I know, but you'll forgive me if I savor it?" His eyes were intense, focused, holding more emotion than she ever thought possible.

A small smile tugged at her lips, "Of course I will, my love."

It seemed this was all he needed to hear to let go of whatever apprehension his eyes held. The gold sparked and his fingers flew to the lapel of his coat, pushing it to the floor. His shirt soon followed, along with his pants, and Katara was left with a very gracious view of his naked form - pale and muscular and _hers._ Looking at him now, something warm and languid replaced the nerves in her belly, spreading out from her chest to the rest of her body.

"Lay back," he said, gesturing towards the pillows and nodding his encouragement when she slithered up the bed. He kneeled on the end, tracing along the ridge of her ankle with the pad of his thumb.

She expected his fingers to hook into the waistband of her panties, expected his burning touch to roam over her breasts and between her thighs, and anticipation budded in her mind. But she was left waiting, craning her neck to peer at her new husband, who studiously kept his eyes trained on her foot.

"What are you doing?"

"Savoring you, my love. You said I could."

"I did… but that doesn't mean I know what you're doing."

"I'll show you then," His voice was low and thick, spurning the warmth in her stomach to an even greater heat, "Every part of you holds a tremendous beauty because every part of you reveals a different aspect of you that I love."

"Like what?"

He lifted her leg from the bed and his thumb was quickly replaced by a few short kisses to the inside of her ankle. His lips grazed over her instep, nibbling here and there, until he reached her toes and offered a peck to each one. "Everyday, you walk two miles - rain or shine, cold or warm - to the hospital and everyday, you spend hours on your feet."

He kissed the pad of her other foot now, whispering against the skin and sending shivers up her spine, "You do this because you care for others - some more than they deserve - but, you always give whatever you can to those in need. That is why I love your feet."

Unexpectedly, he moved up the bed, straddling her upper thighs. Her hands left the pillow, coming up to his chest and sliding down his stomach towards his growing arousal, but he halted her efforts and lifted them to his lips for a moment.

"Your hands," his fingers moved over her palm, massaging and tickling her skin, "Your hands hold a talent few could dream of… and I'm not speaking of your career as a nurse. I mean your inherent ability to heal and soothe. You don't always realize it, but you healed me in more ways than I could even name. Your fingers broke down barriers. Your palms took away pain. Every touch is kind and gentle and that is why I love your hands."

He disappeared again, dropping her hands to her chest, before he settled low on the bed. There, nestled between her legs, he bent to kiss along the length of her shin to her knee and she marveled at how such a simple act could drive her so wild. "Your legs, though you may not always like their shape or their size, speak immeasurably to your strength."

A jolt of nervous energy ran through her when warm fingers trailed up her thigh and he plucked at the white silk covering her, but it quickly turned to anticipation at the playful smirk in his eyes. She lifted her hips from bed, with his silent request, and something akin to giddiness rippled through her heart as the scrap of fabric was tossed to the floor and he nestled down between her legs.

"Your legs are powerful. They have carried you through many hardships and they carried you to me."

"Is that why you love them?" Katara asked, her breath coming in quick pants when his mouth hovered above her center.

"Yes, that is why I love your legs." Ever so slowly, he kissed up the inside her left thigh, taking his time to reach the short patch of curls at the apex of her legs. But his hot breath only skimmed over the dark hair, making her stomach twist and her hips lurch when his lips descended on the other thigh. He nuzzled and nipped down to knee, smiling at the sounds leaving her throat. "Patience, my love."

"Patience was never my strong suit."

He laughed - it was a loud, infectious sound and she couldn't help but join him in the lighthearted moment, "Perhaps that's why it didn't make my list."

"You have a whole list?" Katara griped, dropping down from her elbows. She hadn't even realized she'd propped herself up to watch his audacious display.

"I'm almost done."

She watched the softness return to his eyes and almost as if he were making up for the relentless teasing, his mouth found its way between her thighs once again. She nearly shrieked at the first pass of his tongue and her hips bucked forward into his chin, practically begging for more. His hand left her leg, parting her slick folds to give his tongue more freedom and there was a low thrum in his throat that vibrated through her being. It was too much - her body was on fire, the heat of it spreading from his lips all the way to her fingertips and toes. She was going to explode or fall apart or burn alive and just when she was on the edge - her legs shaking and back lifting off the bed - his mouth fell away and collided with hers.

He tasted of champagne and chocolate cake and something ruddy and sensual - she drank him in, feeling electric shocks wherever his skin brushed hers. Slowly, he lowered his weight on top of her and she shifted her hips so their bodies were aligned but he kept her efforts to pull him closer at bay. She gave up that route, smiling victoriously at the keening gasp that escaped him when her hand wrapped around his hard arousal.

She kept his mouth to hers, holding his head still with a hand woven through his hair, and stroked him greedily. His sounds were delightful, filling the air with a chorus of desperate moans and pleas, and she realized that her own cries had joined his. She wanted him, _needed_ him.

"Finally," he murmured, breaking the kiss and grinding into her hand once more before pulling his length from her grasp, "Finally, we reach your heart." His breath was coming in pants, the tip of him pressing into her. It would be so easy to thrust up towards him, to be full of him, but Katara waited. "From the day we met, it was open to me. It saw every inch of me and _still_ let me in."

His hand drifted from the steady beat beneath her ribs to her breast, teasing and plucking at the pink bud, but his eyes were locked with hers. "Your heart has always been big enough for both of us. It carries so much love and that love… that love that flows through your veins, that lights up your eyes… it gave me life and that is why I love your heart."

Katara's vision blurred and she was forced to break the long look to blink back the tears that pricked her eyes. She couldn't imagine a life without him now - he was here, he was hers, he was the breath in her lungs. Finding his lips again, she clung to him desperately, licking and nibbling and gasping with him and finally, when she felt she couldn't wait any longer, he pushed into her.

His eyes fluttered shut and the perfectly still moment seemed to stretch over a life time - his heart beating against her chest, her body so impossible full of him… full of love for him. His gaze met hers and his lips parted with a low groan.

"You're so beautiful, Katara, so, _so_ beautiful. And I love every part of you."

Then he was moving and his pace grew gradually, like their love did over the years they spent together. It was slow and endearing, fast and heartbreaking, rough and tender and careful and intense - all the emotions, all tangled up with their limbs. His body responded to her and she to his until she was spilling over and she couldn't tell where she ended and he began.

The moans and sighs were indecipherable, mixing and mingling in the space between their lips, and heard her name being whispered over and over and over.

_"Katara. Katara. Katara."_

Then the room was suddenly quieter and he slowed, kissing down her neck and filling her ears with panting breaths. She couldn't imagine a more content moment, a more perfect ending to an already perfect day. His head fell to her chest and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling her own heart gradually slow.

"I love you, Zuko."

"I love you, too."


End file.
